The Adventures of Milky
by KillerKlamz
Summary: The story follows the lives of an adorable idiot named Milky and her always irritated companion named Anchor while they trek through the frozen wasteland of Texas.
1. Chapter 1

The Adventures of Milky

_Chapter 1: A Murderous Psychosomatic_

It was a bright sunny day in Texas. The sun shone with brilliant radiance upon a tent in the middle of what seemed like nowhere. Inside this tent, there was a miracle of modern day socialism taking place, perhaps one for the ages.

"Fuck you, fucking bitch!" exclaimed the captive.

"Whoa there, cowboy, we need to slow the train down," said Anchor.

"Fuck you, you fucking raider piece of shit!"

"You see I know you're not mad at me, you're unleashing all your repressed anger from when you were raped as child," the raider replied.

"You really think so" he replied. "Wait no, hang on, yeah… fuck you, I hope you get raped by a Deathclaw."

Anchor shook his head and looked to the shady figure in the corner. "Well that's it for the psychological approach." he then pulled out a .44 Magnum and aimed it for the captive's head, clicking the safety release and pulling back the hammer. "Listen fag-fuck I'm gonna ask you some _real _simple questions and you're gonna answer them, or I'm gonna give you the Kurt Cobaine special."

"Well when you put it that way," the captive began again, "FUCK YOU! I'm not gonna tell you shit, asshole!"

The shadowy figure crept out from the darkness and fired a point-blank shotgun round into the captive's head, sending skull fragments and grey matter in opposite directions. "What the theoretical fuck, Milky?!" Anchor shouted, "you got his brains all over the walls."

The girl known as milky stood there with an innocent look on her face. "He said he wasn't going to tell you anything so I acted." She cocked her shotgun as the shell-casing ejected from the firearm and clinked on the ground. "I thought that's what you wanted me to do. If you keep yelling at me, I'm gonna have scary dreams."

Anchor stared at his associate blankly. "The correct way to say it is 'nightmare,'" he responded. "Think you can remember that, slut?"

"You're so mean Anchor…" she stated solemnly as her eyes watered. "Why are you always so mean?"

"You're gonna give me an ulcer…"

"What's an ulcer?"

His eye twitched slightly. "Fuck it, the moral of the story is that you can't believe everything a person says, got it?" he explained sympathetically.

"Got it!" Milky replied enthusiastically.

Anchor kicked the partially decapitated corpse from the chair and let it fall to the ground. Blood began to pool around the floor. He then left the room and soon came back with much more lively captive. Anchor stood over him with a stern look tattered across his face. "Now, I'm going to ask you some questions and you're gonna answer 'em, understood?"

The captive eyed his fallen comrade; his head blown apart by discharged shrapnel. "Fuck man, I'll tell you whatever you want as long as I don't end up like that guy. Jesus!"

Milky squatted down to meet the captive at eye level. She stared at him with understanding and put a hand to his cheek. "LIAR!" she shouted as she leapt back and shot the captive in the face.

Anchor, feeling a mild sense of déjà vu, scolded Milky. "WHY!?" he screamed.

She gave him and apologetic look as a thin trail of smoke travel from the nose of the gun. "You told me not to be so trusting."

"Would you shoot me if I lied to you?"

She laughed and punched him in the shoulder. "You wouldn't lie to me, silly."

"Your hair is Blue." He said with a straight look as he crossed his arms.

Milky pulled a strand of her pink hair in front of her eyes. "So _that's _what this color is… Pretty!"

Anchor quickly walked from the room. "I can't fucking take it anymore! I'm gonna get a lobotomy!"

Milky followed in tow, matching his steps out of the tent. "Hey, Anchor, wait up! Whats a lobotomy?"

"Oh God, why! What have I done to deserve this?" he questioned to the sky.

"Who is this '_God_'?" She continued to berate him with her overwhelming inquisitiveness.

"One of these days Milky…" he seethed under his breath. "Oh, you know what? Never mind." He turned to his associate with a smile on his face as he gave a low chuckle. "Lets go get some more piggies and go to market."

"I like bacon."


	2. Chapter 2

The Adventures of Milky

_Chapter 2: A Game Between Rivals_

The Sun lingered over the barren wastes, hanging in the sky like a picture adorned within a frame. _The Frostpulse Barrens,_ as the landscape was called, was a cold, desolate area that harbored all but a warm welcome for any and all who dared the attempt to brave it. Its unpredictable blizzards and earth moving avalanches had claimed the lives of thousands, even before the great purge. Knowing this are a very inquisitive girl and an irritated delinquent who dare tread the great expanse of snow and ice.

"Hey Anchor, why's it so cold out here?" Milky inquired.

"Oh god, she's talking again!" Anchor clutched his head as suicidal thoughts began to roam freely. Perhaps he'd freeze to death before she had the chance to ask another irritating question? Oh, please, sweet hypothermia, lend him your cold embrace.

"I mean seriously was it always this cold?" She looked to her friend as he began to hurriedly remove his coat and outstretch his arms. "Hey? Are you listening to me?!"

"Just pretend she is not even there." He took in a deep breath of dry, chilled air. "Yes. I'm all by myself out here. All by myself," he muttered under his breath.

"Anchor?" Her lower lip quivered as her eyes began to water. "Are…are you ignoring me?" she asked with a sniff.

Anchor turned around with a plastic smile. "Of course not; I've heard every word you said. It's just that you ask so many questions that it takes my brain a while to process the information and give you the correct response," he ensured with a wooden tone.

"When will you have an answer to my questions?" she asked as her tears dried and she returned to her usual gleeful voice.

Anchor's fake smile sank faster than his IQ whenever she spoke. He muttered hateful rabble, trudging forward with a depressed expression as he felt his brain cells rioting.

"Anchor, hey, when will you have answers for me?!"

The raider stopped dead in his tracks, Milky running into him face first. "Ouch!" she squeaked while holding her nose. "You're just a big meany, Anchor!"

Anchor turned towards the girl with a sinister smile etched across his lips. He had a plan to soothe his headache. "How old are you Milky?"

Dumbfounded, the girl began counting on her fingers while muttering things such as 'multiply by two' and 'carry the one.' A few moments later she held up two fingers on her left hand and one on the right. "This many!" she exclaimed with a prideful smile.

"Three? Well, that explains a lot, actually."

"No silly, twenty one," she corrected triumphantly.

"Well then, I guess you're too old for that," he said condescendingly.

"Too old for what?" Anchor smiled at her reaction. He knew she would be too curious to not wonder what he had in store for her. His genius plan was rolling together perfectly.

"No, you're way too boring and dull to play this game." Anchor said with disingenuous intentions. Just a little more prodding and the fish would be on the hook.

She gasped. "A game? I-I'm not boring!" She shouted. "I wanna play!"

"Nope, sorry. Your boring like a corpse that won't return the favor."

"IwannaplayIwannaplayIWANNAPL AY!" She was practically on her knees.

Anchor's smile grew wide as he knew his mission was accomplished. "Well, if you insist," he 'gave in' with a chuckle, "we're going to play the _quiet_ _game_." He masked his annoyance with a playful tone.

"What's the quiet game?" she asked confused.

"It's a magical game," he explained, "where the participant has to be very, _very_ quiet until we get to a certain place, and if you can stay quiet the entire time I will indulge you with a prize of your choosing. Anything in wasteland! You name it, I'll get it."

Milky raised her arms in the air and opened her mouth to cheer. "But!" interrupted Anchor, causing her excitement to deflate like a balloon, "only if you remain quiet the entire time until we reach Xerxes Cross."

"_Anything_?" she drawled for insurance.

"Anything," he stated firmly.

"Like a dress!?"

"Yeah… sure."

"Or a Robot dog?"

"Yes."

"Or an Alamo snow globe!"

"Yes!" he exclaimed as he raised his arms in feigned enthusiasm.

"Even a revolver that every time I pull it out it makes a mysterious sound like—"

"Yes! Anything!"

Milky pulled back a bit. "I accept your terms, kind sir," she said with closed eyes extending her hand.

Anchor, realizing his victory, extended his own hand and shook hers wholeheartedly.

"Now remember no talking no matter what. Be as quiet as humanly possible."

"O-kay~"

"Your time starts…"

"Hey do you think we'll see any—"

"Now!"

Milky's mouth shot closed. She held her index finger and thumb together in the form of a circle, signaling her compliance. She then pulled a small notepad and pen from her trench coat and hastily scribbled something down.

Anchor's let a little smile cross his face. He exhaled the breath he seemed to be holding since the beginning of his endeavor and had it fly back and smack him in the face. His victory was short lived, for not a moment later, the two met face to face with a thrashing blizzard.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!"

Milky tapped him on the shoulder and offered her notepad. He snatched it from her grasp and glanced it over:

_Ur Not Very Gud At Da Kwiet Gaym_

_From: Milky_


	3. Chapter 3

The Adventures of Milky

_Chapter 3: Death's Hand_

The blizzard engulfed Frostpulse Barrens, the freezing temperature establishing its dominance amongst the elements. A light shining in the darkness, a beacon of hope to all those caught in the cold's embrace. The fire illuminated the dark epicenter of a cave keeping a quiet idiot and a mildly pleased raider from being laid asunder.

"This should keep us alive for a while," Anchor began, "at least until the storm blows over." To Anchor's delight, there was no question or stupid remark. "Hey Milky, what's your favorite thing in this whole wide world?"

Milky's smiling mouth gaped and almost screamed but she clasped her hands over her mouth just in time.

"What was that?" Anchor asked with a smug smile while mockingly cupping his hand around his ear. "I didn't quite hear you."

She stared at him sadly and then smiled, remembering that she had more paper in her rucksack. Anchor gave her a content smile as she rummaged through her sack, pulling out an assortment of strange items. She tossed everything haphazardly from her bag and even struck her friend with a rogue rubber ducky. When she concluded her search by turning the bag over, she found nothing. With a disappointed look, her head slumped as she gave a sniff.

Anchor, rubbing his head from the impact of his rubber assailant held up a small notepad. "Looking for this?"

Milky perked up as she noticed what her friend had in his possession. She nodded her head with enthralled enthusiasm.

"You want this Paper?"

She nodded her head furiously.

Anchor slowly stretched the notepad over the open flame in an 'attempt' at handing it to Milky. Milky, overjoyed, reached for it without hesitation. Before she could reach it, however, Anchor dropped it. "Oops, too slow," he said with a smirk.

Milky squeaked as her friend laughed maniacally at her predicament, having lost her only form of communication.

Anchor's laughter ceased at the intrusion of a third voice.

"Good evening," the deep voice's words bellowed throughout the cave, the reverberation of the echo making it impossible to pinpoint the exact source of it.

Anchor quietly slipped out his weapon and checked the magazine. "Hey Buddy, Why don't you come closer to the fire so we can have a nice, friendly chat," he pulled back the hammer, "face to face?"

"The girl," it pointed out, "why is she crying?"

Milky, still unaware of the situation, continued to sob silently.

"She ran out of paper." He paused at the absurdity of the reason. With a sigh, he explained it more to himself than the voice. "She's sort of a child."

"I have some paper I would be willing to spare for a seat next to your fire."

"And what makes you think we should do—" Anchor started before watching Milky quickly make a dash to the right and grab something, dragging it into the light and revealing a giant black hand with machete-like claws. "M-Milky what the fuck are doing?! That's a—"

"Zeno," stated the dark, towering form of a deathclaw.

Without even realizing it, Anchor had his gun raised and aimed it directly for the deathclaw's head. "What the fuck is that?" he asked.

"My name; Zeno," he echoed.

Anchor's face tightened as his grip on his gun trembled. He lowered his weapon as the deathclaw emerged from the darkness. Anchor stared into the purple eyes of what could only be described as the devil incarnate. The deathclaw towered over the raiders, his face radiated in the glow of the flame; white scars diagonally lined his face. What was offsetting about him was that he was carrying a large rucksack slung over his shoulder.

Milky, still overjoyed at the ability to communicate once more, did little to grasp the gravity of the situation.

"I fear I must also say again, good evening… resident."

Anchor stared for a few moments; beginning to laugh giddily at what he could only assume was his imagination. "So this is what psycho withdrawal is like," he gathered, coming to terms with his insanity. "Shit, now I got babbling moron _and_ an imaginary Edward machete hands. Great."

The deathclaw raised its razor sharp hand, rested it upon Anchor's shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "I assure you human I am more than real, the residents of the past referred to me as Zeno," he explained, "you are also at liberty to call me that, resident."

"Well I have one question for you, Mr. Zeno," Anchor said in an attempt to relax himself. "What in the name of fuck, are you?!"

"Have you not crossed with one of my kind in the past?" Zeno asked with a hint of surprise.

"Oh, yeah, no I know exactly what you are. You're just a figment of my imagination, and, judging by your mannerisms, I'm guessing you're my conscience." Anchor paced himself and examined the creature more closely. "Haven't seen _you_ for a while. Tell me, did you do something with your hair?"

"Are you plagued with _The Madness_, resident?"

"I went bat-shit a _long_ time ago, bud. Name's Anchor," he offered, extending his hand to shake only to immediately retract it.

"And this one is…?" Zeno lifted a piece of paper from his rucksack, pinching it between his massive claws. Milky snatched it from his grasp and began scribbling.

"Milky," Anchor stated flatly.

Milky held up finger in a gesture to tell him to give her a moment. She handed the deathclaw back the piece of paper with an amateur doodle of the large figure. Zeno read the text written at the bottom aloud. "Mr. Snuggles."

Milky then wrapped her arms around the deathclaw and squeezed tightly.

Zeno tensed at the unfamiliar sensation, feeling threatened. "What is she doing, resident? Is she attempting to battle for dominance?"

Anchor chuckled. "No, worse." He laid back with his arms crossed behind his head against a stalagmite and scowled. "Dude, my advice, as soon as she lets go, get the fuck out of here, because once she grows attached she will never fucking leave… trust me."

"I do not recognize this as a threat, rather… comforting," Zeno cracked a smile.

"Do you hold affection for this Milky, resident?" Milky ended the embrace and stared at Anchor with optimism.

"Well, I wouldn't use 'affection,' it's more along the lines of a partnership."

Milky, satisfied with the answer, looked to Zeno and nodded.

"Ah, I see. That is… nice." Zeno glanced to the cave's entrance, still enveloped in a visible frosty chill. "The weather outside is frightful. May I engage in conversation with you lot until this passes?"

Milky held out her hand to Zeno, expecting something. He reached into his rucksack and handed her another piece of paper which she scrawled upon hastily before handing it to Anchor.

It Read:

_Can We Keep It Pleez Pleez Pleez Oh Prity Pleez_

_Luv Milky_

"Oh, for the love of god!"


End file.
